


Lost and Found

by DecemberRain101



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic, Star Wars old canon, jelph marrian, lost tribe of the sith, ori kitai
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, F/M, Healing in more ways than one, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi, Love, Romance, Sith, dalsa flowers, daughter of nobility, fall from grace, farmer Jelph, irritating Ori, landing into safety, marking a slave, poisonous water, slave - Freeform, uvaks are briefly mentioned like twice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 00:32:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13647657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecemberRain101/pseuds/DecemberRain101
Summary: Ori and Jelph.  They met by chance and now chance threatens to separate them forever.  Love, Duty, Pride—what will they choose?This story is a very loose re-telling of some events from Purgatory and Sentinel from the book Lost Tribe of The Sith with a few things of my own  thrown in. If you haven't read the book, there soon will be a short summary at the end outlining the original Jelph/ Ori story. Questions are always welcome.Thank you for visiting and I hope you enjoy this short.Unbeta-ed and currently under editing.P.S. Assume Ori is still learning how to shield her mind.





	Lost and Found

 

 

 

 

> He should have let her fall on her ass that morning, the morning they first met. Right into the muck she should have gone, in her stiff Saber robes. But, caution aside, he caught her, an inch from the dirt.

His beautiful, irritating Ori. She has not left him since. Her flesh-and-blood visits turned into flesh-and blood dreams as he fell, blind and stupid, at her proverbial feet. Served him right, he supposed, to end up in the mountain runoff, staring at the business end of his own blade.

"Lying bastard!", she spat, words bitter ash on her tongue.

"Ori...", he put up a hand.

"How long were you going to keep it from me, you...  you Jedi!? Or did you think I was dumb?"

 _I ..._  He did not finish the thought. Ori swung and he dove just as the saber cut water over his head.

He stayed under to think. This god-awful mess was all of his doing. He let himself dream the wrong kind of dream and now all life off Kesh could suffer for it.

He was tempted to sink to the bottom, float down the aqueduct and just go away, letting everything go to hell...

But he knew better than that.

He took himself to the surface. His head, still attached, spoke of Ori's retreat. But something else held his attention, something at once sinister and disappointing. A great orange mushroom consumed the horizon, sputtering, belching great huffs of smoke, spewing ash and brilliant light everywhere. Even this far, tiny coals were raining down on him. He did not brush them away from his hair and robes.

* * *

It all started with dalsas. The first time she came, he did not give her much thought. Just another spawn of High Sith looking for the next treasure.

She was attractive, he gave her that, but severely lacking in manners. He was glad he had learned to conceal his thoughts.

He continued hauling his mud, planting his herbs and flowers and gathering whatever else grew in the muck.

Soon he caught himself paying more attention to dalsas. His fingertips ran along smooth waxy blooms and he imagined something else in the darkness. With time, their fragrance grew sweeter, more potent. It followed him around during the day and slipped into his dreams at night. Strange flowers.

One day, tending them, he imagined he was caressed in return. "Get down to earth, farmer," he shook his head and went back to work.

Still, the quiver of flowers unnerved him. He called on his training and spent plenty of time practicing forms. Of course, the Force laughed at him and the girl returned.

* * *

Two weeks ago, she hopped off her uvak off schedule. He was digging a ditch when she marched over, blinking, features trying to school themselves into something acceptable for a Noble. She was not shielding well. Screaming crowds rushed through her mind amidst crackling blades and blood underfoot. Then he saw Ori, kneeling, being stripped of her Black Saber robes. He cut the connection. She was breathing hard and would not look him in the eye. Abruptly, she turned away and walked back to the hut. Tossing the shovel aside he followed.

Mepples were never his thing but he kept a basketful on the table for his special customers. And their uvaks, to be exact. Now Ori was crunching on tiny fruit, face turning colors.

Next moment, Ori upended the basket, little spheres spilling onto the floor. She stuck her head in and promptly vomited. Brilliant. Her cheeks flared up and she wiped her lips with the sleeve of her robe.

"I'm sorry. They made me drink something..."

"I know."

_You know Noble Sith customs?_

_They are not very noble._

She heaved again with better aim and purpose.

He brought her mint leaves and fresh water and let her slip out the door.

* * *

When she returned, he gave her a stack of blankets. She dumped them onto dirt floor then rolled up a sleeve. There, on the soft inside of wrist, a slave mark burned.

"Day of the Dispossessed, indeed", he whistled quietly.

"They made a mistake."

"A little too deep for a mistake, Ori."

She looked away. "That's not all."

He raised an eyebrow.

"What they put in the skin... It causes permanent damage, spreads up the arm to the face, as a reminder of sorts."

"I see how it would bother the beautiful."

She bristled, "You got something for it or not?"

Silently, he got up and pulled a jar of green paste from the shelf. From lower cabinets he gathered gauze, bandages and a small tin of pills.

"I won't take any of those", she said pointing at the speckled capsules.

"You will", he countered, "unless you enjoy screaming."

She did not argue.

The pills hissed in the water.  Scent of burnt sugar invaded her nostrils. She took a sip.

"Tastes worse than uvak insides."

A corner of his mouth quirked up.

Halfway into the glass, her thoughts swam like molasses, limbs grew heavy and numb. She tried to sit up.

"Jelph, what the hell is this?!" That wasn't her question  _exactly_.

He looked her straight in the eye. "I don't desire unwilling women, Kitai".

 _Unwilling... unwilling..._  The word bothered her. She let her eyelids fall shut.

Soon she felt his careful tending, touch landing sure but soft. The wound tingled.

"Try not to wet it, for now. In three days, aqueduct water is fine. The river's off limits, always."

"No skinny-dipping at night, Jedi?"

_Gods, she was drunk._

"Red algae reactivates poison."

Ori opened her mouth and ... nothing.

"Allright, then," Jelph knelt in the corner and unraveled the blankets. The girl almost fell into them, tired, but was stopped by his voice.

"You should rest over there," he pointed to the opposite wall.

His bed looked inviting, much more so than the gray woolen stuff he was kneeling on. She looked away from him fast.

He heard her rustle around then still. He kept his breaths even and tried to doze off.

By midnight he could hear her muffled whimpers. He waited for her to approach but she did not.  _A darn trooper._  He wasn't, not with that much of female crying.

Pulling his shirt on, he got up and towered over her. Ori was rocking in bed. Knees tucked in, knuckles in mouth, moonlight silvering eyelids.

"Why didn't you tell me, Kitai?"

_He is just a farmer. He is just a farmer._

Several audible huffs then she pulled the sheet aside, just enough, and dropped a bent knee on the blanket. On pale inner thigh, a hand-breadth away from where he had no business of looking, glared a second mark. The redness was angry and spreading.  _Blazes._  He kept his expression impassive.

He turned the lamp all the way up and brought back the supplies.

Another glass of milky drink later, Ori laid back on the bed and turned her head to the wall.

When his gentle touch came, she cleared her throat. Suddenly, this was not good, he was simply too  _close_. Burning with shame, she readjusted her hips.

And he felt her, he Gods-damned  _felt_  her deep in his abdomen. Sweat beaded his forehead.

He bandaged the wound quickly and turned the lamp off.

This was  _all wrong_. Hell, he needed to get  _away_  from her before, like a starved animal, he ripped the sheet off and laved at her with his tongue. Goosebumps rushed over him at the thought.

He got up. His tunic caught on something, something that made a noise.

"I'm cold."

"I'll put another log in the fire."

"I don't want a log."

_You don't really want me, either._

He stepped out the door.

He returned. His breathing was lighter.

She heard the water turn on.

"Leave it. Come."

_Time to grow balls._

He turned off the faucet, wiped his hand on his pants and joined her on the straw-stuffed mattress. She twined her fingers through his, felt the slight stickiness and murmured something. 

_Merciful Maker..._

Thank the stars, the "princess" wrapped herself in his body, nice and warm, and sighing contentedly, drifted off.

He did not, for a long time.

* * *

Morning came.

He woke up, Ori's body smooth in his arms, narrow hands resting under his shirt.

"Sorry", he pulled back and cleared his throat.

"What are you sorry for, Jedi? " she laughed. "Sith slaves can lay with whoever they want."

_And that is the problem with Sith, Ori._

* * *

They held off for a week, neither avoiding each other nor getting too close. He gave her the plot with the dalsas. She tended to them every morning. After dinner, he took a knife and taught her how to make healing paste out of stalks. She made two jars then made use of paste on her fingers.

She gave in to desire first. At sunset, she waded through grasses humming a song. He was meditating as was his custom.

"Always so calm, Jedi", she teased and shoved him off his rock. He stared at her from the ground. She went for bold. She kissed his face then all the way down his body. He tasted like sunshine and salt on her tongue.

That night, he fucked into her gently, then harder.  She exhaled into his mouth and invited him deeper. Stars, he was so lost in her...

When hard breathing and moans evened out, silence turned into laughter and something welcome and soft tugged at them both.

"Would you ever deign to consider this home?". A smile played around his mouth.

"Do I get to marry the farmer?"

He kissed the hell out of her.

* * *

They never got that far and now both were alone. At least he was, and if she weren't, he wished her everything she deeply hoped for.

He went back to his home. The shield he installed around the hut activated during the blast and the place survived. He continued to work as before, except for the dalsas. They shriveled away, hurt.

Time passed. He almost stopped waiting. Almost.

When she showed up it was nighttime, planets glinting above. She stood on the threshold and tugged at him through the force.

"I'm sorry, " she whispered but didn't step closer.

"Ori, what do you want?"

She knelt next to him, searched his face. She wanted the safety of his mind and his body that he had given so freely before. She reached for his cheek. He did not let her.

She got up and brushed the dirt off her knees. By the door, his words caught her.

"Ori, honestly, what do you want?"

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.  _Honesty..._  Coming from him, the word was a joke.

The door shut behind her. He did not follow but paced until he could not anymore. When he sensed her by the river, he ran all the way to the shore.

When he got there she was in the boat already.

"Ori, don't!"

"Leave me alone!"

"Ori, look down!"

She did. She had the old boat, the one with a hole.

He waded in, scooped her up, set her on sand. She was angry and squirmed trying to loosen his hold on her. He picked her up and let her behave like a spring colt, all the while closing the distance to home. By the time they crossed the threshold she had grown meek. He stuck her in bed, under a mound of blankets and came back in five with his blasted broth.

The best meal she'd had in a long time.

From the bed she watched him as he stood by the sink, methodically scraping the bowls. Wrapping a blanket around herself she made her way over, hesitated a second then leaned into his warmth. He stiffened.

"You will be a great father."

A mug slipped and broke on the floor. He gripped the sink tighter.

"Have you decided to stay then?", his voice was husky and low.

"If you..."

He whirled around, bringing his face close to hers. " What makes you think I would ever not want you?"

"I am a Sith, you are a Jedi?"

He picked her up and set her on the counter. "Like that ever stopped me before."

* * *

That night, new dalsa shoots sprouted. On their own.

_Or not._


End file.
